


Dancing in the moonlight

by AwatereJones



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Episode: s02e09 Something Borrowed, Gen, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-27 00:16:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20751146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwatereJones/pseuds/AwatereJones
Summary: This is a one shot of the night of Gwen's wedding after it has all wound down and the last of the retconned are beign tucked away. Just a moment of Janto I think we sort of missed. Something we might have liked. This one is for Lady Emma. Oh and ... Love ya too Crumbly xxx





	Dancing in the moonlight

They were dancing.

A slow number, the singer's droning just background noise as Ianto closed his eyes and let his hand splay across Jack's shoulder, the other in the small of his back much as Jack's was in his. He breathed him in.

Their bodies were touching as much as humanly possible while still fully clothed and in public but the electricity between them was humming as Ianto felt Jack's semi-hard-on pressing against his as they swayed. It felt like he was being hugged all over, like he was safe. Warm, safe and nothing could touch him as he closed his eyes, letting Jack lead him around the dance floor.

People had been put to bed or were still waiting, slumped at their tables, the night was winding down and soon the place would close. But for now…for now things were OK. For a moment in this little pocket of the universe…of all the verses… this moment was perfect.

Jack could feel the weight of Ianto against him and knew he was tired, so damned tired after the day of madness but also pleased with the outcome. It had taken Jack a while to realise Ianto was an Outcome kinda guy. If he had a goal…he strove to meet it. Even if the goal had been set by himself, failure was not an option as it was almost physically painful for him to fail at something. To let people down. To be the fuckup his father told him he would be.

Jack knew it would mean the end of him one day, like so many good agents the righteousness in this man would walk him straight into death's gaze but he would meet that gaze if it meant he was doing the right thing. Trying. Ianto would never flinch.

Jack tightened his hold and Ianto sighed softly, letting his face find Jack's neck and nuzzling in to smell that musky spice that he had never smelt in anyone else before. Heady, like incense burning in the next room. Warm, rich. Ianto loved Jack's smell. After a night of lovemaking he sometimes woke alone and would cradle the pillow for more comfort, Jack slipping from the bed to chase a weevil … or another piece of tail … Ianto was not that stupid. He had thought Gwen… but now knew Jack saw her as a sister. That dance earlier that people had seen wrong … Ianto knew that was not what it had seemed. He knew … he had never smelt her on him. On Owen … yes but… not Jack. He had some sort of morality system there. He understood that a man like Jack cannot settle down though, be monogamous. He has needs. He also knows Jack will never love him that much. He can't afford to. Not when he has to leave him one day. You know … one of them will fuck up and that will be that. Part of Ianto wants to die in these arms, to have his last moments on this earth in these arms, selfish as it is knowing that means Jack has to watch the life spark dwindle then snuff to like a candle in a breeze.

One more dance.

Jack doesn't know what Ianto is thinking, his own thoughts leaning to getting home to bed. He knows Ianto didn't sleep the night before, so much to do and so little time as he fussed and primped followed by the early morning phone call and extra helping of Torchwood. Trying to make this all fucking work. To please them. Jack ponders for a moment what it might be might to actually marry and settle. He had never been any good at it. For Ianto he might…he actually might have except for that Righteousness Gene in this man's DNA that warns him of the loss to come. Jack has not been with another since Ianto slipped the spare key to his apartment into Jack's palm and calmly continued passing out drinks to the team like he had not just handed over his heart.

Jack is more than slightly terrified by this. After all … he still can't understand why anyone trusts him. Fucking Con Man in a Great Coat. Making shit up as he goes along and hoping for the best. The other night Ianto had turned to him while they were watching telly on the sofa and said softly "You are the biggest bullshitter this side of the moon, you know that? You are so lucky that you are a loveable one Jay!"

Jack had felt his heart stop. Ianto hadn't called him Jack. He had called him Jay. There was no way Ianto could know that was his nickname as a child. Javic. His name was Javic but shortened to Jay when his mother had called him and his brother Gray to meals. Gray called him Jay. So did his parentals. He…. He had not been seen in so long, he now knew without a doubt that Ianto saw him. Him. Javic. He recognised that child hiding behind the dress up clothes he had found in a big blue box, in the void between here and there. Somehow, behind all his blustering and games…Ianto looked directly at Javic Thane and called him out in that moment, the lips then pressing to his comforting and full of affection before Ianto turned back to the TV like nothing had happened.

But it had.

Jack heard the song finish and they stopped moving, pulling apart enough for their lips to meet.

"Ianto" he whispered "I need to tell you. I need…"

"Don't. It's OK. We never have to say the words. Not those. They are too much like saying goodbye to something" Ianto whispered and Jack smiled, stroking his cheek.

"OK."

"Yes Cariad. We are"

And in that moment, that perfect little moment with retconed people sleeping around them and Owen off to one side moaning about the cost of his tux… they were.


End file.
